Faded
by DeedeeSmith
Summary: A picture long since faded brings back the memories of a fateful night when magic and brotherhood mixed and love just wasn’t enough.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I am back up and running (after that rather unfortunate incident with the cable guy) I actually should update very regularly with this fic because most of it is finished! (Does the happy dance of the almost finished fic) I just have to make sure that it is reader ready (meaning its atrocity doesn't burn off your eyebrows) and I'll try not to make it so angsty, but you know (or you probably don't, but you will know) that I am a sucker for the sad Winchesters, can't help it, it's a disease. Well, much love to you for reading (which I'm assuming that you're doing by being on this page) and as always reviews are what keep me alive. Deedeesmith**

**Summary:** A picture long since faded brings back the memories of a fateful night when magic and brotherhood mixed and love just wasn't enough.

* * *

It was storming like the apocalypse outside of the small suburban home and within fifteen minutes every single light had flickered out.

"Damn" he cursed under his breath searching in one of the end tables in the living room for a flashlight. He found a candle but no matches and he couldn't very well light up the room with a stick of wax. Lucky for him a glowing orb was floating down the stairs, apparently his wife had the wherewithal to actually know where the matches were and she was carrying two lit candles into the living room. Behind her two more beams of light shot out at odd angles, his children must have found the flashlights.

"Honey?" She called out looking in the darkness for her husband,

"Over here" he said waving his arm, not realizing that the exercise was futile. She followed his voice and soon enough the small family was in a circle in the living room, a small patch of light encasing them in the darkness.

"Daddy, what do we do now?" His little girl asked, big brown eyes pleading with her father to have the answer. Before he could reply another voice spoke up,

"Hey Dad, who's this?" His son was ten and had given up "daddy" this year. He looked over at his boy and squinted to see what he was holding. It was a picture, a faded picture of a face that he hadn't seen in a long time. He took the picture from his son and determined that it must have fallen out of the end table in his search for a flashlight. He didn't answer right away; he just studied the lines on the young man's face, the smile on his lips and the light in his eyes. This was taken when the young man in it was twenty-eight, he was strong and handsome, not even time could fade away the confidence in his stature and looking at it he was transported back to that day.

"Would you like to hear a story?" He asked lighting his candle. His little girl nodded eagerly and his boy shrugged. He raised an eyebrow to his wife who was smiling at him. She remembered the face in the photo all too well, but she hadn't heard her husband talk about him in a very long time. The man situated himself on the plush couch and leaned foreword trying to tell the story and impart all the wisdom that came with it. "This man had a brother" he started out with an extremely obvious statement, although not that obvious to his kids, "they grew up together in an…" he paused, trying to find the right words, "unusual way. You see their father was determined to –err- get rid of something evil that had hurt their family, something that had taken their mother away."

"A monster?" The little girl asked and he nodded,

"Yes, a monster. So they trained together, and moved together, and for the better part of their formative years they were each others only true friend. However, the younger brother didn't want to continue on with this lifestyle forever, he wanted to go to school, become a lawyer, and start a family. In no way did –hunting- figure in to his life plans. So one day he got accepted into a college, and he left. He left his brother, his only friend, and his angry father, and didn't look back."

"_Sam, wait" Dean's voice called out to his brother who had already stormed out of the little house they were staying in. Sam stopped and turned, but he didn't say a word. The clouds overhead were gathering in an ominous way and the air smelled like rain. "You're really serious about leaving, aren't you?" Dean looked at his brother intently and the hurt in his eyes was impossible to hide. Sam lowered his head and all he could manage was a feeble nod. "Look, I mean, I know that our life hasn't exactly been perfect, but you can't just bail, man. I mean…" His voice broke and he had to look away, his brother was too painful a sight right then. _

_"Yeah, I can, you heard Dad, I'm not welcome any more" Sam said and that forced Dean to look up again. _

_"Sam, he didn't mean that, he just gets angry sometimes….you know, and he doesn't know what he's saying." Dean was grasping at straws trying to defend his father but the steely look in his brother's eyes told him it was useless. "You just – you can't go, man … I'll, and well what I mean is I'll…." His voice trailed off the sentence too hard for him to speak but Sam gathered the meaning and spoke for him, _

_"I'll miss you too" he said quietly slinging his bag over his shoulder and nodding to his brother a goodbye that would have been too painful any other way. "But I have to do this" Dean reached out for his brother, but halfway to his wrist he thought better of it and let his arm drop. The tears were biting at the corners of his eyes now and he didn't know how much longer he could hold out. _

_"I…" The last of Dean's protest fell limply on the ground, and instead he just nodded pursing his lips into a fine line, "goodbye Sammy" he said, his voice barley above a whisper. Sam's eyes remained tear-less but his gut wrenched as he saw the utter betrayal in his brother's eyes, heard the pain in his brother's broken voice. But, Dean was a part of his past and he had to walk away from the brother he loved dearly so he could have the life he wanted more. As he turned his back to walk away the clouds opened up and a gentle rain fell on top of the parting brother's heads. Dean was grateful for the rain because it masked his tears as he watched his brother walking until he reached the end of the block, not once did Sam glance back at the family he left behind. _

When he looked back up from his silent moment of remembrance, there were tears in his wife's eyes, so he hastily continued.

"But one day their father went missing, and Dean had to go and get Sam once again to help him out on the hunt, and so the brothers were reunited. However, something horrible happened and so Sam who was originally only going to stay with his brother for a few days decided to pack it in for the long haul."

"What happened?" His son asked wide-eyed and the man looked at his hands and sighed,

"A fire, son started by a monster. One that killed someone very close to Sam"

"Was it the same thing that took away their mother?" His son asked again and the man nodded solemnly. A hush fell over the tiny audience then as the man continued on with his story.

"So the brothers set out to find their father, and they faced many evil things along the way. Sometimes it was hard to be together all of the time, and they did get into one pretty nasty fight, but all in all they loved each other and they stuck together through thick and thin. Eventually they found their father, it turns out he was close to getting the thing that took their mother away, but he was reluctant to ask his sons for help. However, even though it was hard for the old man to admit, he worked best with his sons and so they went after their enemy as a family." He smiled when he thought of all of the Winchesters being together again, fighting as one solid unit….how he wished that it could have ended with a happily ever after. "I'll spare you the gory details" he said giving a pointed look to his youngest who squirmed in her seat, "but eventually the family came up against what they had been fighting for years, and it took them a while, but they won." His son grinned and nodded, expectantly waiting for the _rode off into the sunset_ part of the story, but there was no happy ending for these knights. "So, once it was all finished, their life's work completed Dean and his father wanted to continue hunting because it had been all they had known for so long. Sam, on the other hand wanted to go back to school, get a good job, lead a normal life. Unfortunately, against his better judgment he agreed to go on one last hunt."

"_This is it, you know…my last one" Sam said as he loaded the gun staring off into space, allowing himself to soak in the damp motel room walls, the smell of the questionable bedspread, and the last toilet he ever planned on seeing that required a buck twenty-five if you wanted to use it. He didn't look at his brother, but he could feel the tension that pulsated through him at the mention of his leaving again. He had left once before without warning, but this time he knew Dean was prepared for it. He heard him clear his throat awkwardly and nod, _

_"Yeah, I know" he said cocking his own gun and walking to the door, hiding his eyes from Sam. _

_"But you know, I'll keep in touch" he added hopefully, he just wanted to give his brother something to hold onto once he was gone, but his offer fell flat as Dean remembered going two years without hearing from his brother. He remembered the birthday cards and letters, the late night phone messages that he had left for his brother at school, none of which were replied to. Dean never brought it up, but that kind of total rejection by his own brother still stung. _

_"Yeah….sure" was all that Dean said as they walked out into the prickly night. They were going to end something, something big. All Dean wanted was a little more time with his brother, but their father had been blabbing on for days about this complex black magic, and how exciting it would be to tare down a huge magical wall that…and by this point Dean had spaced, trusting his father to tell him what to do when he needed to do it, and leaving it at that. John didn't look at Sam for awhile, he couldn't help it, but he knew that the boy was going to leave again soon and he didn't want to get too attached, well, more attached then he was already._

_Dean was taking the exact opposite approach, spending all of his time with Sam to the point that John asked them when the wedding was going to be. But Dean didn't mind the teasing, so long as he got to be with his brother for their last fleeting moments together, because he knew once they went their own separate ways…it would probably be that way for good. They loaded up their car, filling it with every possible thing they could use to vanquish whatever it was that their father had been talking about, and set out. _

_They were headed for some gypsy ground where an old friend of John's had called and asked for their help. Apparently four men had dropped dead in as many weeks for no apparent reason. They had looked into it as far as they could and the only thing they came up with was a vengeful spirit of some sort, which was the gypsy equivalent of saying that they had no fucking clue. John, however, had delved much deeper into the legends of the ground and found out what he thought was what was plaguing the band of gypsies. They pulled up to the gypsy ground at around ten o'clock, the sky around them was dark but the caravan was brightly lit with multi-colored lights and lively music made its way to the Winchester's ears. They walked hesitantly up to a very large tent that was made of some sort of navy blue material and trimmed with gold chord. _

_"John Winchester" a sing-song voice called out to them. They stepped inside the tent and a very attractive middle-aged woman sat inside on a plush chair. "Why I haven't seen you in ages" she cooed walking over to them, "and this must be Dean and little Sam" she said her eyes wide, "not quite so little anymore, is he?" John laughed and ventured to introduce his old friend, _

_"Boys, this is Alda and old friend of mine" Dean and Sam nodded their hello and Dean raised an eyebrow to his father speculating on how "close" this old friend had been. He ignored his eldest and followed Alda as she sashayed to the back of the tent and bid them to sit. There were four cups of some steaming liquid on a tray. At first the boys were hesitant but their father took one without trepidation so they followed suit to Alda's delight. Immediately after drinking the warm concoction they felt their weariness and cares melt off of them and they became intently focused at their job at hand. Alda was smiling and joking with their father, and even Sam, but for some reason she avoided talking to Dean and when he did see her glance at him she always had an intense sadness in her eyes. This was more then a little freaky to Dean who had no idea what could cause a gypsy to look at him like that, but he ventured to guess that it wasn't good. Halfway through their little chat about nothing in particular some screams from outside the tent distracted them and Alda's face immediately showed the signs of her age as it became filled with worry. _

_"Dean, go see what that is" John said after a long stare from Alda. Dean was more then happy to oblige and get out of the tent and away from the woman who saw sorrow when she looked at him. Once outside, he found a man in the middle of the circle of tents writhing on the ground in pain. _

_"What's going on?" Dean asked a nearby man who shook his head in sadness, _

_"He's been taken over by some demon…he rolls on the ground in pain." Dean didn't miss the obvious fear in the old man's voice as he stepped into the circle to see if he could do anything to help the man. Once he got to him Dean couldn't see any physical injuries on him, and he recognized his fearful outcries not as cries of pain, but that of blind terror. _

_"Whoa, whoa, your okay man" Dean tried to calm him down but he kept screaming, _

_"Help me, help me! The mark! I have the mark! I don't want to die! Help me!" Dean at first didn't see what the man was talking about, but slowly a blood red insignia made itself visible on the man's white shirt. It was a symbol that Dean had never seen before, a circle encased in what looked like barbed wire what with all of the criss-crossing lines. Dean brushed the pads of his fingers over the sign and to his surprise it disappeared. The man immediately stopped writhing on the ground and stood up, staring at Dean in amazement. He took a shaky first step towards what must have been his tent and then he walked quite normally the terror gone from his eyes. The crowd of people that had watched the spectacle from inside their own tents flooded the circle and cheered for Dean. The man he saved clapped him on the back quite hard and said, _

_"You are a truly brave and selfless person, thank you." Dean didn't quite know what was going on, or how he had somehow made the mark disappear, but he took the praise with grudging pride and smiled his thanks to the crowd. At this point Sam, John, and Alda appeared from inside her tent with wide eyes and confused faces. _

_"What's going on?" Sam asked once Dean tore himself from the grateful hug of the man's wife. _

_"I don't know….one minute the man was freaking out, the next minute he was fine and dandy. These good people seem to think my brilliance had something to do with it." He said with a lopsided smirk that Sam knew all too well. Sam merely rolled his eyes offering that no response, _

_"So, what did Dad's friend tell you about our beastie this time?" Dean asked, but before Sam could answer John waved them into a small tent to the right of Alda's. Apparently that was where they were to stay while they figured this whole thing out. Once they were inside the tent Dean repeated his question and Sam nodded taking a long card and a Polaroid from his coat pocket. On the card was the sign that Dean had seen on the man just moments before. A circle encased in criss-crossed lines. On the Polaroid there was a picture of a man who appeared to be sleeping, with the sign obvious in blood red on his chest. _

_"Is he…" _

_"-Dead" John finished the sentence for him as he walked out of the tent, his head down still not looking at his youngest son. The boys watched as he met up with Alda outside and she whispered something in his ear. He looked startled and glanced back at the tent that housed his sons before following Alda back into hers. Dean waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Sam who mentally threw up at the idea that Dean was implying. Instead he focused on the sign once more. _

_"He was the most recent victim; fell just a week ago with no reason for the death, just this odd sign on his shirt." Dean's eyes grew wider, _

_"Do you know what the sign means?" Dean asked and Sam shook his head, _

_"No…I've never seen it before, and neither has Alda…but she thinks that it is like a magical seal of some kind, something used to cap off the hex, or spell, or whatever the hell is killing these guys." Dean scratched the back of his head and studied the card closer, there was no question, it was the same sign. _

_"Does she know how the sign can be taken off of somebody?" Sam shook his head again, _

_"It can't, it goes down to the bone. The only way to get rid of it is to find someone dumb enough to touch it when it first appears, then the sign is transferred onto them, and the impending death that it signifies belongs to them as well." Dean's eyes now looked like they were going to pop out of his skull in a heartbeat. _

_"And by impending death you mean…" Sam arched his eyebrow and clarified what he thought was a pretty damn clear statement. _

_"That whoever touches the sign before the seal is complete will die instead of the person that the seal was originally intended for." Dean felt like the wind had been knocked out of him, but he refused to believe what Sam was saying. _

_"And by die you mean -" Sam put the card down on a rickety old table and looked at his brother like he had five heads, _

_"I mean no more living, gone, **dead**." He looked at his brother closer and saw that a wave of nausea was threatening to overcome him, "Dean, what's going on with you?" He asked and his brother reluctantly met his gaze. _

_"Sam, we might have a problem." _


	2. Devoid

**A/N: Thanks to all of you who have reviewed...you are my new favorite people!**

"So wait, is Dean going to die?" The little girl asked and her father smiled slyly in her direction,

"I can't tell you Lucy, not yet." His eyes darkened as he gazed at the picture in front of him more intently before continuing.

"_You did what?" Sam asked disbelieving,_

_"I may have touched it" he said and Sam gaped, _

_"**May** have?" _

_"Okay, I did but I didn't know" Sam groaned and covered his face with his hands, _

_"Okay, so you're going to die" Sam said scoping out his seriously disturbed brother, _

_"No shoes Sherlock" _

"Dad...shoes?" The boy asked rolling his eyes and his father smirked,

"His words, not mine" he said continuing making a mental note that Dean probably said anything but shoes.

"_Well, listen, all we need to do now is learn more about this sign….curse…whatever, and we can stop it before it stops you." Dean nodded, he wasn't really afraid, he had come close to dying more times then he could count and his family had always gotten him out of it. "Plus, according to the pattern, you have a week anyway." Dean grinned, one week to live, oh the possibilities. As if on cue John walked back into the tent a hesitant air about him as he spoke to the floor, not daring to raise his head, _

_"Alda wants to see you" he said to no one in particular, Sam and Dean exchanged skeptical glances and an awkward silence fell between the three. "Well go on then, Dean" John said again not looking up._

_"Yes Sir" Dean said shaking his head and walking out of the surprisingly spacious accommodations. As soon as he was gone John lifted his head and Sam saw the reason why he was hiding his face. His eyes were rimmed with red and puffy, almost like he'd been….crying. _

_"Dad…what-" Sam was cut off as John raised his hand. _

_"Sam…I'm sorry" the youngest Winchester didn't know what to think, he never thought he'd hear his father say those words so long as both of them were alive. _

_"For what?" At this John let out a low sigh and eased himself down onto a small wooden chair that bore his weight quite well. _

_"For everything, for everything that's happened to you and everything that will happen to you….for your brother…" Sam knitted his brow in confusion and sat across from his father. _

_"What about Dean?" He asked, knowing the other two parts were self explanatory. At this John lowered his head into his hands and clenched his eyes shut to avoid shedding tears in front of his son. _

_"Alda is … gifted, she has an amazing sense of foresight and she showed me…." His voice faltered and he squeezed his eyes shut in anguish. _

_"What? What did she show you….Dad?" Sam was leaning foreword towards his father, who he hoped he would never have to see like this. He just lifted his heavy head and sighed, _

_"I'm so sorry Sammy." _

_Dean walked hesitantly into the large navy tent. He didn't want to see the brown eyes rimmed with makeup looking at him like it was his dying day. To his surprise when Alda did show herself she smiled and seemed happy to see him. _

_"Dean. I'm glad you've come, I have to show you something." Dean followed her to a round table with four smooth stones in a diamond on the almost glass-like surface. He sat down with a heavy dose of skepticism hanging over his head on a plush purple chair that was extremely comfortable. He looked over at the gypsy who was staring at the stones with a far away look in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Dean" she said her voice still sounding oddly chipper, "I have lied to you…I know what the mark is, and I know why you have it….please, allow me to explain." She shifted in her seat and leaned over to him. He flinched slightly when she pressed her fingers to his temples, but before he knew it the room was spinning in front of his eyes. When it did come to a stop he was still sitting in the purple chair, and Alda was there as well. However, she looked much younger, possibly twenty years younger, and completely distraught. _

_"Please…" she said to another woman who seemed years older, but who was most likely the same age. She was shrouded in a white cloth-like dress and her black hair stuck out at all angles, and she seemed distant, almost ghostly. "Please, don't do this…it will ruin everything." The woman to whom Alda was speaking didn't seem fazed by her desperate pleas, and her eyes remained cold. _

_"He is dead, and now I have nothing…and it is your fault, the fault of this caravan…I will never rest until his death is avenged, until all have suffered like I have suffered." And with that the strange woman was gone. Alda sat down across from Dean and she seemed to look right through him, he cringed as shivers crept their way up his spine, but then the spinning was back and before he knew it he was facing modern day Alda again. _

_"What the hell was that?" He asked her and she grimaced. _

_"The woman was Mara, she was my best friend when we were children, and we grew up like sisters. She fell in love with a strange man, an outsider such as yourself and she wanted to marry him and bring him into the caravan. We didn't mind so much, we just wanted to initiate him…scare him a little before we would welcome him into our family. So…we sent him a nightmare…the most terrifying vision that I could muster as he slept. The next morning we found him dead in his bed…I had made a mistake, the images followed him after his waking eyes opened, and to end to horror he…" Her voice trailed off but Dean got the picture. "After that she came to my tent, that was the meeting you saw, and after she left I never saw her again. Shortly thereafter the killings started. It was obvious who was behind it, we tried to exercise her spirit from the place…we found where she had fled to, a nearby town where her love had lived. She had holed up with his family, but she had died a few years earlier." _

_"But she was so young, what did she die of?" Dean asked, puzzled. _

_"Love…love killed her" Alda could see that Dean was still confused so she explained further, "love is an intoxicating drink, for some it can be the elixir of life, sustaining them in bliss for as long as they have it. However, if love is shattered then that elixir can be a poison that can choke them with heartache." An image of his father flashed before Dean's eyes, but he shook it from his mind. _

"_So, where is she buried?" He asked and Alda smiled, _

"_I know what you are thinking, and it has already been done. We salted and burned her bones long ago, and the killings stopped." _

"_But they started up again, why?" Dean asked and Alda rubbed her forehead with her fingers, _

"_I do not know" Dean nodded motioning to stand up, _

"_Wait" Alda said not looking in his direction, "do you know how she kills them?" She_

_asked and Dean shook his head, "I do. And this will happen to you." Dean tried to swallow the lump in his throat as he listened, "not anyone can remove the mark of the broken heart from a dying man. Only someone who is about to lose as that man was to lose, only someone who is about to have his heart shattered himself." Dean shifted uncomfortably under the pointed gaze of the gypsy woman, feeling as if her eyes were drilling holes in his soul. "She will give you a choice…you may live but the thing that you love most in this world will die…" Dean began to open his mouth to protest but Alda interrupted him, "you will suffer as Mara suffered, or you will die quickly and leave those you love behind to suffer for you." A silence fell over them and Dean felt like he should speak, even though he knew that Alda probably knew what he was thinking anyway. _

_"I would never let Sam….my family…I…" To his surprise his voice failed him and Alda nodded knowingly. He cleared his throat and tried again, "is there any way to stop her?" He asked pleading with the cosmos to cut his family some slack. _

_"No." _

_Sam had turned white as a sheet and when Dean re-entered their tent he nearly tackled him trying to get answers. _

_"What did she show you, what's going on? Dean? What did she show Dad? Dean?" His inquiries were met with silence as Dean sat, dejected on the remaining chair across from his father. _

_"It's your turn Sam" he said, "she's asking for you now." Sam stormed out of the tent, wild with anxiety. "Dad…did she show you…" Dean didn't have to finish his sentence, John nodded and he sighed. "So there is no way?" He asked and John looked up at his eldest, a rare wave of affection overcoming his brown eyes. _

_"If there is a way, we'll find it together, son." _

_Alda met Sam with a serious look in her eyes, she didn't speak to him she just trusted that he would follow her back to her round table. He sat where his brother had once been and she took the moment of silence between them to realize how very different the boys were. While Dean had been reserved and almost pensive you could see a world of hurt in his eyes, Sam was antsy and fidgeting his hurt plain for the world to see, but there wasn't quite so much darkness in his eyes. _

_"I suppose you have some questions" she said and he opened his mouth, and closed it again like a caught fish gasping for air. Then, wholly unexpectedly tears came to his eyes. _

_"Is my brother going to die? Is that what you are showing everybody?" Alda didn't sugar coat it, she felt like that would be an insult to this bright young man's intelligence. _

_"Yes. He is going to die" she saw the tears in his eyes subside, replaced with raw defiance and she knew that he wouldn't let Dean go without a fight. _

_"But can you see every possible outcome? We can change what you see, can't we? We can make it so that he lives….we have to be able to do something." Alda smiled sadly at him, _

_"It is true that I cannot see everything" she said, figuring that it would be better to keep the hope alive in him. "But, I think, given the circumstances, Dean would chose to die." At this he became inflamed. _

_"What? Why would he choose to die? What could possibly be the other choice?" Alda met his gaze and sighed, _

_"Oh, Sam. I think you know." _

"Wait, Dad…what would Dean die for? I don't get it." The man looked at his son, his own eyes coming dangerously close to being clouded over.

"His brother" the man said and the boy shook his head,

"That doesn't make sense, why would he die to protect his brother?" The man grinned at his little man but before he could explain his wife spoke up.

"Love…He would gladly give up something as temporary as life for something as infinite as love." She shot her husband a meaningful glance and he nodded.

"You might be a little too young to understand just yet" he said but his boy shook his head,

"No. I do." He said, and as he said it, the man could swear he saw his son's eyes flicker over to his younger sister for just a moment…but maybe he imagined it.

"Keep going, Daddy" Lucy spoke up at last, and he smiled down at his girl.

"Okay…where was I?"

_Sam returned to the tent to find his brother and father in a cloud of silence, both having equally depressed faces. _

_"We can do something" Sam said his voice sounding raspy and strained. They looked up at him, seeming wholly unconvinced. _

_"Did Alda tell you something?" John asked and Sam shook his head, _

_"No, but she did say that it was possible, there's always hope." John muttered something that Dean could have sworn was, _

_"Hope's a dangerous thing, son." But he let it go, instead he said, _

_"Like what?" Sam turned to his brother and bit his bottom lip nervously, _

_"I don't know, but something, something has to work." _

_For the next three days Sam became a hermit, searching every book in their possession, calling every living contact they had that could possibly help but it all came to nothing. John and Dean had indulged him throughout his whole process but finally, at the end of the third day Dean saw that his brother was close to a breakdown. _

_"Sammy, chill out…give yourself a break." He tried but Sam just looked at him like he was a madman. _

_"How can I do that? I'm not going to stop until I can fix this….I…" He just shook his head and didn't finish turning back to a large leather-bound book he was reading from. _

_"Sam, this is not your fault….and it's not your responsibility" Dean said, still trying to take the pain away from his brother's eyes. _

_"Not my fault? Not my fault? Dean…if it weren't for me, you could choose to live, if you didn't…" he couldn't bring himself to say it, but Dean gathered what he meant: if you didn't love me. Dean shook his head and put a comforting hand on Sam's shoulder, _

_"Listen to me Sammy…I know I don't show it sometimes, but I would die for you because in my mind, it's the least I can do." Sam opened his mouth to speak but Dean cut him off, "let me finish, you have been my reason for living since I was four…you have kept me alive for twenty-eight years, Sam…so you can be the reason I die in an instant. I can't imagine dying in any better way. So…don't beat yourself up, Sam…my death is not for you….my life is." Completely and wholeheartedly uncomfortable with the amount of brotherly love in the room Dean cleared his throat and exited awkwardly. However, his little speech had the opposite effect on Sam then what was intended. He was even more determined to find some way to save his brother. Finally, with one day left, Sam believed he had found a loophole, an incantation that would make Dean completely devoid of emotion, so he would have no suffering and the ghost would have no purpose for hurting him. However, the idea seemed to scare Dean more then anything. _

_"Please, Dean. It would work, it would keep you alive." He said begging his brother to let him save his life, _

_"I don't know if I would want to live like that, Sam" Dean said doubtfully but his brother was persistent. _

_"Please, Dean….you wouldn't feel anything….literally. Please…" His eyes were so big and begging that Dean felt his resolve dwindle. He looked at his father for guidance, but John merely shrugged. _

_"Plus…after the spirit is destroyed, we can reverse it…I promise…please." Dean scratched the back of his head and he allowed one of his fears to escape his lips, _

_"But what if I don't want it to be reversed?" He asked and Sam smiled, _

_"Then I'll tie you down." Dean nodded biting his lip in contemplation, _

_"Alright, I'll do it…so long as you promise not to let me stay that way…like a shell." Dean shuddered but Sam didn't see it, he was so eager to save his brother's life. _

"He was so eager to save his brother's life; he didn't realize that without any feeling at all….it's not really a life anyone wants to have saved." The man concluded with a thoughtful tone.

"But, if his love for his family is what is keeping him alive now…what will he live for when he has no love, no feelings at all?" The boy asked and his father nodded to him,

"That is exactly the point, son….nothing."


	3. Machine

"_Sam, I don't know about this" Dean was having serious second thoughts about this whole "no feelings" thing, but his brother looked so desperate that he eventually caved to the Sammy stare. _

_"You'll be fine, I'll reverse it once the spirit is destroyed, I promise." But Dean wasn't afraid of that. He wasn't afraid of what his brother would do when he was stripped of emotion, he was worried about what he would become. But he hid his fears in that dark place of his heart that was slowly growing bigger. _

_"Alright" he agreed warily, "what do I have to do?" Sam set up the alter for the seriously old school incantation. There were things on that table that Dean didn't even want to think about how his little brother got his hands on them. There was a craggy old paper-back book in Sam's hands and his eyes were scanning the pages like two miniature sprinters racing the words before them. _

_"Stand here" Sam said pointing to a chalk circle in the middle of the room, not lifting his eyes from the pages. Dean stepped carefully into the spot that was allocated for him. He scanned the little enclosure for his father, but John had disappeared two days ago, he was in the caravan somewhere but he seemed to be avoiding his sons. _

_"Sam…" Dean's voice trailed off as his brother started reading in a tongue that sounded like gibberish even to Dean's trained ears. He didn't like the look on his brother's face, and he was seriously considering running for the hills at that very moment. Lord knows there had to be a better way. Sam didn't respond, his eyes grew darker and his lips were set in a fierce grimace. His voice grew deeper and more threatening as the intensity of his foreign words caused his voice to waver. And then, like a great gust of wind blew through every one of Dean's pores the eldest brother was knocked off his feet. Sam stood still, staring at the book in front of him, his hands shaking, it took him a good minute to gather his senses, and by that time Dean had pulled himself up off of the floor. Sam's eyes cleared of their darkness and filled with concern. _

_"Are you alright?" He asked, but Dean didn't respond, he just…stood there. "Dean? Dean, how do you feel?" Still, his brother gave no answer. "Dean?" Sam's voice filled the whole tent with uncertainty and regret, yet Dean seemed unfazed. He finally moved at the sound of his name, his mouth opened but no words came out, and puzzled he closed it again with a shrug. _

_"Sammy?" It was their long forgotten father making his overdue entrance, "Sammy…don't do it, I've just come back from Alda's and she knows the spell….she says he won't care anymore…says he'll forget every emotion." His speech ended and his eyes finally drifted over to his sons. It was clear that he was….as usual…too late. _

_"Dean?" Sam tried again, shaking his head, "Dean, do you feel…anything?" His brother finally seemed to get a hold of his body and could control his mind again and he spoke. _

_"No." It was what Sam had hoped for, yet the victory seemed hollow in the wake of his brother's lifeless eyes. John was dumbfounded, he couldn't wrap his mind around the idea of his son not being able to feel anything, he was scared, but in a way he was also sort of jealous. _

_"Who am I?" John asked, finding his voice, that came out as regular as he could manage, the deep tremor bringing back floods of memories in Sam's mind if he cared to linger on them, but Dean's remained blank. _

_"John Winchester" he said blankly, not even blinking. Sam felt a shudder of repulsion creep up his spine as he immediately regretted his rash decision. Dean wasn't Dean anymore, he was a shell, a sack of skin with no substance, and Sam began to wonder if such a life was worth living. _

_"I've got to reverse it" Sam said reaching for the book again, avoiding his brother's vacant stare. _

_"No. Not until the spirit is destroyed, Sam…it's all we've got." John said and although it was twisted, Sam agreed. Plus, even if the spell was reversed, when the spirit showed it would take his brother with it. But something in his brother's eyes made his wish that there was a better way. _

"So he couldn't feel _anything_, Daddy?" Lucy asked and the man shook his head,

"Not one thing." He said,

"So he couldn't feel pain?" His son asked and the man nodded, "cool" his son breathed and the man shook his head,

"No, he couldn't feel any of the good stuff either…there was nothing." Something in his father's eyes made the boy very uncomfortable and so he shifted and remained silent so that he could continue on with the story.

_They couldn't coax Dean into a conversation. He remained stonily silent for most of the time and Sam was beginning to wonder if he was sleeping with his eyes open. He just sat, and when night came he closed his eyes like a machine, without one word to either Sam or John for the entire day past that first no. That night there was a chill in the air and Sam and John were tossing and turning in anticipation for the coming specter, Dean however was sleeping as soundly as ever, seemingly unaware of the supernatural events that may well kill him. _


End file.
